


Carousel of Time

by Tiptapricot



Category: The Lost Boys (Movies)
Genre: Angst, David is trying his best, Falling In Love, Fluff, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, Temporary Character Death, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:41:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29313495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiptapricot/pseuds/Tiptapricot
Summary: David gets the chance to try again... and again and again and again.
Relationships: David/Michael Emerson (Lost Boys), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 31





	Carousel of Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [billted](https://archiveofourown.org/users/billted/gifts).



> Hey guys! This is a birthday gift for a most outstanding duder, mr [@bogusted](https://bogusted.tumblr.com/) over on tumblr. Ily Marko, ty for bein such a good friend my duder! 
> 
> Title is from the song [The Circle Game](https://youtu.be/V9VoLCO-d6U) by Joni Mitchell.

The first time David dies, he’s in a penthouse overlooking the Chicago skyline.

For the most part 1952 is a year he only remembers now as a blur of alleyways and stomach aches and endless odd jobs. It was the year he really learned to hate the smell of wet asphalt and car exhaust, and the lady a few blocks off his usual route that kept losing her cat, but… business was business, and money was money.

It’s not really a surprise then, looking back, that Max reeled him in so easily.

It was just a few jobs when it started, easy stuff like groceries or flowers, and sometimes the occasional run for something more fancy like a suit or new briefcase. Those were always David’s favorite trips, when he got to walk into some fancy place he definitely didn’t belong, pick up something that was probably worth more than him in the grand scheme of things, and leave like it was the most normal thing in the world. 

He didn’t know what Max did for a living to be able to afford all that shit, just that he worked at night and was very very rich, but that was good enough, as far as he was concerned.

If he’d been smarter, maybe he would’ve considered running off and selling the crap he picked up, but no.  _ No, _ that would’ve been too easy. Instead David told himself he was being smart, playing the long game. He told himself he was working his way closer to Max until he was able to get at the  _ really _ good stuff. Right.  _ Idiot. _

At some point (he’s not sure when, but it doesn’t really matter; a couple months maybe, or a year), those couple favors became a regular errand job, enough to pay for hotels and two to three meals a day. It was ridiculous, and way too good to be true.

And David thought he was a genius.

He thought he was in control, thought he was scamming an old man who was too tired and overworked to go out during the day, who had to rely on a kid he met on the street to pick up his custom suits and his fancy leather shoes. Yeah, David thought he was fucking brilliant. 

So he didn’t question when Max invited him over to say thank you, didn’t question the late hour or the dimmed lights or the full glass of wine he was poured. Why would he? He wasn’t the dumb one in this situation. 

So he ate the food and drank the wine and pretended to be every bit the charming young man he’d made himself out to be. It was only supposed to be a few hours, just enough to reaffirm that yes, David could be trusted and that yes, Max should keep him around, only it ended up being much, much, longer.

Because well, it wasn’t  _ really _ wine. No, it was too harsh and sweet to be, made David’s brain go too fuzzy too fast and hurt his throat going down. Not that he cared. After half a glass it was kind of hard to care about anything, actually.

At some point the conversation petered out, though he wasn’t aware of it stopping, and Max pressed a bottle into his hand instead, urging him on with gentle reminders of, _Keep going David,_ and, _atta_ _boy._

Yes, dying in the penthouse was quiet. It’s a rush of darkness in David’s memory, clean and smooth, and when he woke up there was blood on his lips and in his teeth and Max was smiling at him like he’d won the world.

The second time David dies, it is not that. It is not gentle and it is not quiet and it is not kind.

Dying in the Emerson house is a wash of red and white, sparks and screaming and the taste of blood, and when he wakes up—

...

When… 

...

He shouldn’t…

“Yo! Sleepy head! You gonna get down from there or is Paul gonna have to wet willie you off the bar again?”

David’s eyes snap open. 

Marko is staring up at him from the cave floor below, grinning wide and proud, and solidly, viscerally, alive.

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is a bit short right now but I hope you guys stick around and enjoy the ride I have planned! I might be a little slow to update, but I’ll do my best >:-0
> 
> You can find me on tumblr under the same username, and if you pop over there pls give Marko some love! Other than that have an excellent day!


End file.
